My Boy
by MissWitchx
Summary: Amos can't help but feel like he's letting Cedric down when he struggles to write his eulogy. Cedric deserves a send-off fit for a hero, because that's exactly what he'd died as, and what he'd always been: His hero, and his boy.


**A/N: **_Harry Potter belongs to the fabulous JKR, I don't own anything you recognise :) _

So, this was something new for me. I've never written these characters before, but I'm actually pretty pleased with how this story turned out (considering I wrote the second half at a ridiculous hour in the morning). Writing this has given me a newfound appreciation for Amos Diggory. I hope that by the end you feel the same way!

Word count (w/out ANs or epigraphs): **3282**

Readers, you can skip ahead to the story, now. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>QLFC rnd 10 (Harpies, Beater 2) <strong>[Write a fic that involves - by location - the Beast Division in the Dept of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Bonus prompts: tickled / 'A Divine Image' by William Blake / "Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one." Terry Pratchett]

**Also written fo****r****: ****Hunger Games trilogy comp **[D10: Write about an important character who doesn't get much screen time]; **Disney comp **[Eeyore: Write about someone dealing with a loss]; **HP Chapter comp **[GoF - The Third Task - Write about Cedric]; **ButterflyGirly99's Quote Contest **[sad/meaningful: "I'd rather die a meaningful death than live a meaningless life." - Corazon Aquino]

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><p><span><strong>'My Boy'<strong>

"_Cruelty has a Human Heart, _

_And Jealousy has a Human Face…"_

_- A Divine Image, William Blake_

...

**_July, 1995_**

**_8:50 pm_**

Illuminated by the light of a single, flickering candle, Amos sat behind his desk in his office at the Ministry and wearily rubbed his damp eyes. The dim orange light produced by the candle's flame made even the darkest of shadows dance merrily across the walls of his office. The longer Amos stared vacantly at them, the more alive the silhouettes seemed, and the more his mind started to play tricks on him: he heard the shadows laughing, though the noise wasn't malicious or taunting. It was a pleasant sound that he likened to the joyous and free-spirited lilt of a child.

More specifically: his child.

His Cedric…

Amos' reverie broke, and he clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob. Tears sprung from his eyes, and trailed down features that now seemed permanently aged and distressed. He looked down at the blank parchment in front of him, and then at the floor, which was littered with scrunched up drafts of the eulogy he was failing to write.

He felt so awful about the minimal progress he'd made over the last few hours, despite the fact he'd barely had time to grieve. Though it was completely natural for any parent to find this task difficult, Amos couldn't help but feel like he was letting his boy down. Cedric deserved the best send-off possible; one fit for a hero, because in essence, that's exactly what he'd died as and what he'd always been in Amos' eyes.

Everything he wanted to say just didn't translate well enough on the parchment; he'd just about extinguished every possible negative superlative out there with his failed attempts, and inspiration was running dry. Everything so far had seemed forced and contrived, and that frustrated Amos greatly.

He picked up the closest discarded draft of his eulogy from the floor and spread it out on his desk so the crinkled parchment lay relatively flat, and squinted at the words through his blurry vision.

'_A famous Muggle poet once wrote: 'Cruelty has a Human Heart and Jealousy has a Human Face.' My boy was taken away from me - from all of us – for those same two reasons: cruelty and jealousy. However; the being who took his life could in no way be described as human…'_

Amos grimaced and scrunched the parchment back up in his fist. It was no wonder he'd discarded this particular draft: it'd been more about Voldemort than it had about Cedric, and that wasn't right. Amos shouldn't be using Cedric's eulogy as a means to unleash his anger about his death; it should be a celebration of his son's life.

Feeling like he'd made some kind of breakthrough, Amos turned his attention back to the blank parchment on his desk, but he soon looked up again and scanned the room as if searching for some kind of inspiration within his small office. After seeing the clock on the wall (which told Amos that it was now approaching nine pm) he started to question why he was even writing the eulogy in his workplace, and not in the comfort of his own home. Common sense told him that he'd surely feel a stronger connection to Cedric there, and so he'd be more productive. And yet, his gut instinct had been to stay behind at the Ministry.

As Amos mused over this thought, he stared blankly in the direction of the dancing shadows. Very soon, he heard the faint sound of a younger Cedric's laughter float through his head again, and all of a sudden, something clicked into place in Amos' mind.

"Of course!" he whispered, dipping his quill into an inkwell with a shaky hand and pressing it to the parchment.

He'd just known that there was a reason why he'd felt compelled to stay, and a reason why he felt connected to his son here. Amos found it bizarre, since he'd only brought Cedric to work with him on one occasion, but in hindsight, that memory was an incredibly powerful one. It contained chilling foreshadows that Amos had never had reason to pick up on until now, and that caused more tears to fall from his eyes as he began to write.

This time, the words flowed together with ease, and Amos' hand moved across the parchment fluidly as the memory came to life in his head.

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><p><strong><em>July, 1986<em>**

**_8:30 am_**

"_Floor four: Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."_

"Whoa – steady on, Ced," Amos chuckled as his son barrelled out of the lift like a Snitch being released from the box. "I don't want you getting lost; there's many more areas of this department than just the Beast Division, you know?"

Cedric looked at his dad with wide eyes. "Wow, this place is huge," he commented.

"And Hogwarts is even larger," Amos smiled, taking Cedric's hand and guiding him through the bustling crowds towards the entrance to the Beast Division, where he worked.

Cedric's face practically lit up at the mention of Hogwarts. "Wow," he repeated, his eyes glazing over as he pictured the magnificent castle in his head. "I can't wait to go. Do I really have to wait three more years?"

"I'm afraid so," said Amos. He watched Cedric's expression fall. "But you're going to be nine in a few months, so if you think about it, it's really only two years." When this still didn't do much to lift Cedric's spirits again, he tried a different approach. "What house are you hoping to be in when you do go?"

"I don't know," Cedric pursed his lips in thought. "What house were you in, Dad?"

"Hufflepuff," Amos replied. "Breathe in," he said as he navigated through a particularly tight gap between two rather portly wizards.

Cedric audibly inhaled and held his breath as he followed his father, even though he was already small enough to squeeze through with no problems. After releasing his breath, he said, "I want to be a Hufflepuff like you."

Amos beamed with pride. "Are you sure, Ced?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Well then," Amos smiled. "You're sure to make Hufflepuff house proud one day."

"Really?" Cedric asked with a doubtful expression.

"You're already a little natural at Charms," Amos asserted, speaking loud enough for almost everyone on the floor to hear. "Or was I just imagining you pulling off _Alohamora_ the other day?"

Cedric blushed when several people stared in their direction. "That was just luck," he mumbled as they reached their destination.

"Here we are Cedric. Now-" Amos couldn't even finish his sentence as Cedric took off running across the floor. He was evidently looking for a particular room, as he paused to read the plaques on each door he passed. "Careful!" Amos cried too late, as Cedric had just collided with Barnaby Samoth: one of his colleagues.

"I say Samoth, are you alright?" he jogged over to the other wizard, who seemed slightly winded from the impact.

"Oh yes, I'm right as rain," the wizard's long and greying beard rippled as he laughed. "Just had a little run-in with this young lad," Barnaby gestured to Cedric, whose head was bowed in shame.

"Sorry," Cedric glanced up at Barnaby meekly. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

Barnaby's expression warmed all the more when Cedric apologised without being prompted by Amos, who just found it fortunate that it was Barnaby he ran into and not Vera Hands: a snobby kind of woman with dirty-blonde hair in the same department who had a habit of looking down her nose at everyone, and was presently lurking in the vicinity of the trio.

"Yes, you'll have to excuse Cedric," Amos took his son's hand again. "He's full of beans today."

"So I see," Barnaby smiled before crouching so he was at Cedric's eye-level. "So you're the famous Cedric, eh?"

Cedric blinked up at Amos in confusion for a moment before looking at Barnaby. "Oh, I'm not famous," he said, blushing slightly.

"Yet," Amos added as he ruffled his son's mop of chestnut hair.

"What a modest young man," Barnaby laughed lightly before looking back at Cedric. "What I meant is that your dad's told us all so much about you."

"Dad!" Cedric moaned as his blush deepened. "Really?"

"Oh yes," a new voice said dryly. Amos looked up and saw Vera Hands had decided to cut into the conversation. Her small eyes hovered on him when she spoke, "We've heard _so_ much." With a forced smile, she disappeared into her office.

Amos paid Vera no mind: he was proud of his son and he felt no shame in sharing this information with his colleagues. Luckily, Cedric was oblivious to the lingering tension, and seemed to be scrutinising Barnaby with interest, as if wondering if the wizard's head was upside down due to his plentiful beard and balding scalp.

"So Cedric," Barnaby stood up again. "What brings you here today?"

"I wanna see the dragons," the boy replied, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Dragons?" Barnaby and Amos asked simultaneously.

"Yeah, dragons," Cedric beamed. "Dad told me there was a dragon room where he works!"

"I did?" Amos scratched his head, wondering if he was reaching that age where people in his family generally started to lose their marbles and have bouts of forgetfulness.

Cedric nodded vigorously but Amos remained clueless, not to mention a little guilty. He felt like he'd made Cedric a promise and he felt awful that he couldn't remember. "Ermm," he mused, trying to rack his brains.

As Cedric rotated on the spot and began squinting at door plaques again, Barnaby leaned over so he could whisper in Amos' ear. "Is he referring to the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau by any chance?"

"By Merlin, you must be right," Amos said, placing a hand on Barnaby's shoulder for support as he used his free hand to clutch his chest and steady his heart rate. "I was worried I was reaching 'that age' you know?" the panic in his voice turned into relieved laughter. "I remember telling Cedric yesterday about this department; he wanted to know more about what his old man does for a living," undertones of boastful pride were now audible in his voice. "When I started talking about the Bureau his hearing must have switched off when I said 'dragon'."

"Dad," Cedric tugged at the front of his robes. "Can we see the dragons now?"

The two older wizards looked at each other and exchanged smiles. It appeared that Cedric's hearing was definitely fine-tuned to pick up on the word 'dragon.'

"In a moment, Ced," Amos said. "If you're a budding Hufflepuff you'll need to be a bit more patient."

Cedric sighed but didn't argue or make further comment.

Amos shook his head with an affectionate glance down at him. "I see how it is," he said quietly to Barnaby. "I must've been a daft old codger for thinking my boy wanted to come to work with me while his mother's busy to spend some quality time with his dad."

Barnaby chuckled and patted Amos on the back, "You can't expect 'em to have you as their number one priority forever," he said. "Your lad will rather be out socialising with lovely young witches than spending quality time with his parents by the time he's eighteen. They grow up so fast," he added, a wistful cloud glazing over his eyes.

"I'm sure he will, being the handsome lad he already is," Amos said with a stiff smile. Though what Barnaby was saying was true, he felt his stomach knot up slightly. It was times like this when having such a strong father-son bond felt like more of a curse than a blessing; it was harder to think about letting go. Relatively speaking, there wasn't much time left before Cedric would be off to Hogwarts; Amos knew he had to make the most of every precious second he had with Cedric until that time came.

After a few seconds of thoughtful silence passed, Amos realised it was rapidly approaching nine am, and he needed to start working soon. He said goodbye to Barnaby and escorted Cedric into his office, which was only a few doors away.

Cedric started to run when Amos opened the door, but slowed to a halt after a couple of paces. There wasn't much space between the door and Amos' desk for one thing, and for another…

"There aren't any dragons in here," Cedric noted, sounding very crestfallen.

"And a good thing, too," Amos said, walking into the room and shutting the door. "I wouldn't want any dragons flying around my office." When Cedric turned to face him, and Amos was met with disappointed grey eyes, he gave up on his teasing demeanour and knelt down so he was at Cedric's eye-level. "Listen Ced, I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding. Whilst we do have a department here that deals with dragon-related problems, we don't actually keep any real dragons there. It's mainly for research."

"Oh," Cedric seemed to deflate at this news, but being quite a sensible boy, he didn't complain. Wanting his son back to his usual cheeky self, Amos said something he always said in times like this.

"That's not to say you'll never get to see a dragon. If you want to see one, then I know you will one day."

Cedric swept his hair out of his eyes before looking up at Amos with a dubious expression. "Really?"

"Of course!" Amos boomed. He then caught sight of a shadow being projected onto one of the walls. It appeared to be cast from an ornamental replica of a dragon's skull that sat on his desk. The resultant shadow was pretty realistic, and Amos was struck with inspiration. He pointed it out to Cedric and told him to watch it. The boy obeyed and stared at the shadow with interest, whilst Amos quietly cast a weak _Incendio_ charm from behind the ornament so it looked like the shadow-dragon was breathing fire.

Cedric jumped back with surprise, before spinning around and spotting the ornament. "Dad, you're being silly: that's not a _real_ dragon."

"Of course it is," Amos declared, but Cedric's expression remained sceptical. "You know what I think?" he continued. "I think somebody is trying to be too much of a grown up today, what with all this talk about Hogwarts. Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one, Ced."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Well," Amos said, walking over to him again. "You're still my little boy, so you're still entitled to be silly with your dad." Amos then reached under Cedric's chin and lightly tickled his neck with his fingers. Cedric squealed and giggled, his face no longer the image of adult maturity as it had been a moment ago.

"Dad," he spluttered, trying to push Amos away. "Stop."

Amos ignored this command and laughed along with Cedric as he moved his hands to tickle his sides and armpits, causing Cedric to erupt in laughter and for his cheeks to turn pink.

"Dad!" he managed to gasp out again, and only then did Amos relent.

"Being a grown-up's not as fun as you probably think it is," he said, returning to his earlier point.

"But grown-ups get to do stuff I can't and it's not fair," Cedric replied, running over and pointing to a flyer that had been spell-o-taped to one of the cupboards in the office. "This says there's going to be a ball here, and only grown-ups are allowed to play with it!"

"Yes, it does say that," Amos confirmed. "But it's not like a Qudditch ball or one that you and I play 'Catch' with."

"Then what kind is it?" Cedric asked.

"It's just a fancy name for an event where grown-ups dance and talk about boring grown-up stuff," said Amos with a dramatized wrinkle of the nose, as if to show Cedric how unexciting it was and that he wasn't really missing out on much.

Cedric shuddered, "You mean where you'd have to dance with a _girl_?"

Amos couldn't help but smile as he recalled what Barnaby had said about how Cedric would soon be more interested in hanging out with girls than with him. He felt immensely comforted by the way Cedric was presently acting about such a thought; it seemed that the day he dreaded was further away than he initially believed it to be.

Overcome with joy and relief that Cedric wasn't going to be leaving him anytime soon, Amos grinned widely and said, "You never know Ced, one day you may end up taking a girl to a grown-up ball."

"Ew," Cedric shook his head at such a thought. "I changed my mind, I don't wanna be a grown-up."

Amos laughed. "So you're sticking to Quidditch balls for now, I take it?"

"Yup," Cedric nodded enthusiastically.

"Good," Amos replied with a smile.

Cedric gazed vacantly into space for a couple of seconds before his excited chatter began again. "Ooh, when I go to Hogwarts I hope I get to be on the Quidditch team! Dad, when we get home can you practice with me, _please_?" He dragged the last word out imploringly.

Amos stifled a sigh; it seemed that the whole 'not growing up' attitude was very short-lived. Still, he agreed to practice with Cedric later so long as he behaved himself.

Whenever Amos needed to step out of his office from that moment on, he told everyone within earshot that his son was going to grow up to be a star Quidditch player. For the most part, his words were met with eye-rolls that seemed to say, '_Here we go again…_' but he barely noticed. The very last thing he wanted was for Cedric to live a meaningless life; he wanted his ambitious little boy to succeed.

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><p><strong><em>July, 1995<em>**

**_9:45 pm_**

As he reached the final passages of his eulogy, Amos could barely read the words he was writing. He wasn't sure if this was due to the fact that his tears had caused the ink to physically run, or if this was just an illusion caused by the pool of unshed tears still welling up in his eyes. But Amos didn't stop writing; he _refused_ to stop until he'd reached the very end.

'… _This happened many years ago, of course, and you're all probably wondering why I chose to bring this memory to light. The fact is that my boy – my Cedric – went above and beyond everything he'd set out to do that day, and everything I'd hoped for him._

_Just like he always wanted, he was sorted into Hufflepuff in 1989, and a couple of years later; he became Seeker and Captain for his Quidditch team._

_Cedric represented his house and his school during the Tournament this year, came face-to-face with a dragon and even danced with a girl at a grown-up Ball. He'd finally become a man, and I'd barely realised… perhaps Barnaby had been wrong about what he'd said, after all._

_Though Cedric was modest when I first said he'd make Hufflepuff house proud one day, I believe he died knowing that he'd achieved that. Most of you will know that I've always been an immensely proud father. In fact, some of you may have grown tired about my praises of my son… Cedric included sometimes. But I have no regrets, because it means that during the last few moments leading up to his tragic, yet meaningful death, Cedric would have known how incredibly proud I was, how proud I always have been, and how proud I always will be of him: my boy.'_

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><p><strong>AN: **Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought :D


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